


Remembrances

by ShinyOrenjiMushroom



Category: Bleach
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 23:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13154511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyOrenjiMushroom/pseuds/ShinyOrenjiMushroom
Summary: Grimmjow gets flashes of his past life or maybe that of the souls he’s devoured the more he follows Ichigo around. He seems okay with the things he remembers. They bring him closer.





	Remembrances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Black_Storm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Storm/gifts).



> Please enjoy the awkward Yule fluff. There’s no real time of persons for the memories.

Since he’d become a hollow Grimmjow had flashes of memories from his past life. Nothing detailed, but small snips: the feeling of snow, the smell of baked bread, the taste of almond filling. Being around Ichigo now that the war was over gave him even more of those remembrances. They had a strange relationship. They fought when Grimmjow visited karakura, but also there were moments of quiet. He’d follow the other around in menial things. Even as adults, Ichigo and his sisters kept close and at times he was around them as well. Karin knew who and what he was, while Yuzu merely thought of him as her brother’s quiet and surly friend. She always made extra sweets in consideration for him. His family accepted the oddity, the soul reapers not so much. 

It was in catching Ichigo doing holiday shopping with Yuzu that he found his thoughts triggered more specifically. He landed wordlessly from his perch as the walked by and pilfered the top box off the pile in front of Ichigo’s face. Ichigo eyed him to show awareness but said nothing. Grimmjow carried the box for a moment. He could smell the pastry through the thin cardboard and opened it to inspect. I beautiful Yule log was in the box and he paused. 

“Ah Grimmjow-San! I didn’t see you sneak up!” Yuzu cheered merrily when she noticed him. “Its a lovely western dessert, but the local bakery makes them every year. It’s a-“

“Yule log...” he muttered still staring at it. 

“Yes! We’re taking it back to Ichi-ni’s apartment. I’m sure he’ll share with you later. “

Ichigo nodded and tapped Grimmjow with his elbow. They kept walking, lapsing back into silence. Grimmjow stared at the closed box, wondering at the flurry of memories that hit him. The sound of a metal mallet hitting a blade, a wreath of dried herbs, wild boar roasting on a fireplace spit all danced in his head. Even as he’d followed Ichigo into the apartment his eyes didn’t leave the box. The thoughts felt real. He couldn’t quite figure out why. 

“Ichi-ni! Offer your guest refreshments. “  
Yuzu chastised. 

Ichigo grumbled and cut a piece of the rolled cake. Grimmjow’s eyes darted to the plate then back to Ichigo’s face. An image of dark hair and blue eyes smiled down at him for a moment. Ginger hair and amber eyes came back into focus and he took the plate. He recognized the smell from some distant place. Chocolate and almond filled his senses as he took a bite. Vaguely he could hear crackling fire and soft mumbling in language lost to him. Then it faded to Ichigo and his sister fumbling in the kitchen. 

“Oi, kurosaki!” He barked. “Mead.”

 

“Mead? I don’t keep that. Why do you want that?” He replied in exasperation. 

 

“What else do you drink for Yule?” Grimmjow frowned affronted. 

 

“Coffee? Cocoa? Tea?” Ichigo raised his brow. “I didn’t even know you drank.”

“I don’t?” He snuffed suddenly confused. 

“Maybe Grimmjow-San knows tradition from Europe since he’s not from here?” Yuzu suggested. 

 

“I guess.” Ichigo agreed uneasily. “I’ll see if they have any here. “ he continued to avoid a disapproving look from his sister. 

After a while Yuzu left Ichigo and Grimmjow to their own devices. It was silent and tense, but far from awkward. The air was charged with their spiritual energies. Ichigo was stressed. Grimmjow could smell the tang of it in his aura. He sneered and leaped over the couch. Ichigo blocked the incoming punch and retaliated with his own. It clipped Grimmjow’s chin causing him to grin. He raised a knee and caught Ichigo in the stomach. It was a decent hit, enough to wind him, but not do too much damage. It had the desired effect. Ichigo unleashed all his anger and stress from work, soul society, and the holidays on Grimmjow all the while taking sound beating himself. Grimmjow was sure to get him where bruises weren’t visible lest he hear bitching. After Ichigo tired himself out Grimmjow was sporting a busted lip and a few sore areas. Ichigo, himself was winded and could feel bruising in his side, but he felt better. 

“Thanks.” He uttered as he got up to get an ice pack for Grimmjow’s split lip. 

It was a silly effort since it was only a gigai, but Grimmjow didn’t complain. It was a gesture he was used to after fights. He watched Ichigo from the floor and had a foreign feeling of warmth flood his whole being. It had happened only once before when the reaper had smiled at him the first time they’d met after Aizen’s defeat. He often wondered what made Ichigo different. What made him tolerable and even more so what drew him. He didn’t particularly care for anyone else. Ichigo’s sisters had become somewhat tolerable as had the annoying shop keeper that had provided his gigai, but Ichigo was charismatic even to someone as self reliant as Grimmjow. 

Grimmjow piddled around Ichigo’s apartment curiously inspecting it since he’d never taken the time. He’d seen the other’s room at his father’s house and had come quite familiar with the window he’d sat on many times waiting to fight with Ichigo. This was different. It was purely Ichigo’s space and everything in it dripped of his presence untainted. Grimmjow found he enjoyed it. He thumbed the pictures and books that littered his shelves. A leather bound sketchbook caught his attention and his fingers curled in anticipation. He checked to see if the other was paying attention, then opened it up. The first few pages were drawings of the two women always around him. He grimaced and kept flipping. Every so often he’d stop on a page that was extremely detailed as if pulled from a photo. They seemed to be memories of his struggles. A few of the people Grimmjow recognized. Then he came to pages of himself. Each were from fights they’d had, and none lacked of detail. They were rendered with such soft skill Grimmjow never had thought Ichigo had the roughness of a warrior. 

He flipped to the back of the book and realized that Ichigo had stopped drawing anyone else. It was just fights between them. Every piece played clearly in his mind making him think back to each fight. Ichigo apparently thought about him more than he let on. Their fights seemed just as important to him as they did to Grimmjow. He felt as if he stumbled on something very personal. He snapped the book closed again that foreign sensation washing over him. 

“Grimm, I’m leaving for a bit. “ Ichigo called out. 

Grimmjow was struck at How routine that action and nickname was when he was around. Ichigo didn’t particularly talk to him, but he always told him when he was going out, leaving an unsaid invite open. Grimmjow almost never took him up on it, but decided to this time. He followed silently watching Ichigo shift easily around couples and families walking on the street. He wondered where the reaper was going with such purposeful steps. He found himself standing in front of a headstone at a cemetery. Ichigo lit an incense stick and stood still for several moments as if paying respects. Grimmjow noticed the shaky breath that escaped though. He turned away giving Ichigo privacy. 

 

“Thank you.” Ichigo whispered after a moment. “Let’s see if we can find you some Mead. “ he sniffed changing the subject. 

Grimmjow shrugged and waited for him again following where the other led. They entered a Liquor Mountain store and he hung back as Ichigo asked the attendant where to find Mead. He took in all the different types of alcohol. Even in his gigai he could still smell intently through the glass and the varieties of scents were causing more little thoughts. Ichigo’s hand slid over a bottle of Apis Póltorak Jadwiga and he could almost taste the flavor. He reached out and stopped his hand. Ichigo looked up in surprise, but then nodded and took it to purchase. Grimmjow rolled his tongue at the odd sensation of taste he couldn’t quite remember. 

“You’re acting different. “ Ichigo observed as they walked back to his apartment. 

“Shut up. “ he muttered with no real bite as he walked closer. 

When they got in Ichigo made for the counter and grabbed two metal cups from the rack hanging above. He motioned for Grimmjow to come into the kitchen with a nod of his head. Grimmjow answered the silent invite with a sneer but came over anyway. He inhaled deeply as the bottle was opened. He wasn’t sure if Ichigo could pick up all the subtlety of aromas that had filled the kitchen. This fragrance felt just like the image of the cake. Full of familiarity that was scratching at his memories. 

“Okay, we’ll try your Mead with the cake. “ he seemed unconvinced but cut them each a slice from the Yule log to go with their cups of mead. “Kan-pai.” Ichigo murmured and tilted his cup up. 

“Prost.” Grimmjow heard himself say in reaction. 

 

The flavor was rich and fruity and pulled him into another strange vision. It wasn’t quite the same taste but very similar. He had sudden thoughts of sharing it in the snow. Fire cracked and Metal scraped in his thoughts. The warm sensation of lips on his bled through. He snapped back to attention. Ichigo’s confused eyes came back into focus. He frowned. That sensation hadn’t quite felt correct. He licked his lips noting the way the reaper’s eyes flicked toward the motion. He put his cup down and put a hand on Ichigo’s neck. He studied him momentarily seeing no protest but plenty of question. This time he was aware as he narrowed his eyes and brought Ichigo up again. Their lips met briefly once. Twice. And then slid together easily the third time. ‘That’ felt right. His memories faded and he was completely focused on Ichigo. 

“Grimm..?”

“Shut up.” He flushed a bit. “I wanted to.” He followed up and received no resistance. 

——

 

Happy holidays storm! I hope you like the fluffs.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays. I have tradition of making storm a Christmas fluffy. This time hollow Grimmjow post war hangs around Ichigo and starts to remember odd bits of things but he’s not sure if they’re his or someone else’s memories. Either way him and Ichigo get fluff. Think pre relationship?


End file.
